


Trusting

by veroreos



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe, But mostly angst, Can be read as a romantic relationship, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Mafia Game based, Unhappy Ending, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-04
Updated: 2013-09-04
Packaged: 2017-12-25 14:23:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/954153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veroreos/pseuds/veroreos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Among them were killers and demons.</p>
<p>Caboose couldn't figure out why, but he found himself drawn to the man named Church.</p>
<p>Based on an Epic Mafia game with the BGC deck that went terribly and ended painfully.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trusting

**Author's Note:**

> Pretty much everyone dies so if you're not into that uh, you might want to turn around.
> 
> Based on an EM round where I was Caboose and my friend Clammy was Cthulu!Church and...some of the details are wrong, like who died first and stuff, but it did end essentially like this. I guess it's kind of weird to write about but, I hope you enjoy!

“I am Officer Michael J. Caboose,” the stalwart young man whispered to the fellow next to him, keeping his voice hushed and face straight ahead so as to not draw attention.

The man next to him, who had introduced himself as Church (which was a ridiculous name, but Caboose didn't want to be rude) glanced to him before turning his eyes back to the general discussion. “You could be insane though. Didn't they say one of the cops was insane?”

“Oh, I do not think so,” Caboose responded cheerfully. “I feel just fine!” Church let out a snort of laughter and mumbled something about not believing that before someone else in the group interjected.

“Dude, what's so fucking funny? Some assholes here are trying to kill all of us!” Simon was the name of the guy yelling at them...or, something like that. Caboose had trouble remembering names. Something seemed vaguely familiar about everyone there, but he couldn't put his finger on it. As far as he could remember, he'd never met any of them before. Nobody seemed to understand how they were gathered there in that village either, apparently living in those strange small houses though nobody could remember having moved there or ever lived their prior, or why some of them had certain jobs and roles assigned to them on little sheets of paper left on their nightstands, or why there was a nifty set of rules and hints to who else was in the village pinned to everyone's doors, or why there guns tucked away under their pillows...

Church stepped forward. “Yeah? Well nobody's died yet and you're just spewing hot air right now.” The man named Simon—no, that wasn't right, was it?—clenched his jaw, opening his mouth to respond before Church cut him off again. “We're wasting time! We have literally nothing to go off of, so we might as well go to bed and wait until something happens!”

The group was silent. Simon...er, whatever his name was supposed to be, stuttered for a moment as the man standing next to him shrugged his large shoulders and casually gave a “in that case, goodnight” before turning on his heel and beginning to walk home. The other man followed him, whining about how they shouldn't just wait to be killed off, but everyone else resigned as well, everyone trudging away, some in pairs to whisper to each other, others alone, glancing suspiciously at everyone else.

Caboose watched everyone leave, turning to face Church when his hand was suddenly on his shoulder. “You investigated someone last night, right? Since you're apparently one of the cops.”

Nodding, Caboose took out the crumpled page of notes he took the previous night. The only things actually on the paper were the words 'Sister - killer,' and a little bit of pocket lint stuck to the rippy bits of the top of the page from when it was torn out of the notebook. He couldn't quite remember how he'd come to that conclusion. He remembered sneaking to her house, opening the door quietly, and taking a peek inside...but it was all black nothingness from then until he woke up. He handed it over to Church and beamed with pride. 

Church looked momentarily disgusted with the whole exchange, as if something about it reminded him of something that irritated him, but he sighed and gave Caboose a pat on the back. “Good job, buddy.” Something in Caboose swelled with joy, and for a moment, Caboose was afraid his mouth was going to fall off if he smiled any wider. Church began walking and Caboose followed at his heel. Their houses were adjacent, for which Caboose was grateful so he wouldn't be far from his friend.

“I don't think she's one of them,” Church pondered, folding the paper up neatly before putting it into his pocket. “Call it a hunch. If you investigate some more people, I'm sure we can figure out whether you're insane or not though. I could be wrong, I guess. We'll keep this in mind, alright?”

“Yes Church!” Caboose responded a bit too loudly and enthusiastically and Church seemed to wince a bit in response. Caboose managed an apologetic smile and Church rolled his eyes, but gave a small smile in return before wishing him a goodnight and returning to his own abode.

It didn't take long for Caboose to fall asleep, and like clockwork, he woke up exactly at midnight. As quietly as he could, Caboose stepped out of his house and closed the door behind him. He quickly surveyed the village, unsure of who to check. He didn't know anybody and they had no leads, so he should just choose randomly, right?

Before he realized it, he found himself staring at Church's house. Of course! If he checked Church and the report came up as killer, he'd know he was crazy because there was no way Church could be the killer. It was so simple, he almost wondered why Church hadn't suggested it himself. Caboose grinned at his own brilliance and opened the door. 

In that instant, hell burned itself into his brain and cut out his tongue.

Caboose woke up in his own bed the next morning. When he opened his mouth to yawn, black sludge poured out.

Panicking, he slapped his hands over his mouth and closed it, which seemed to stop the flow, but when he opened it again even just a little, the tar seeped out, flowing endlessly all over his bed and his clothes. When he screamed he felt like he was drowning, any words he tried to form a garbled, unintelligible mess.

Caboose showed up last to the meeting, and when everyone stared at him, he tried to say hello, leading to the familiar fountain of tar spilling onto the ground.

“Holy shit! What the fuck is that black stuff?!” The one Caboose didn't really like, who he was almost certain was named Tucker, pointed at him and gawked in horror. “Seriously, what the fuck?! How is that even--?!”

“Wait!” Simon pushed Tucker aside and jogged over to Caboose, gripping his chin before opening and closing his mouth several times. “Remember what the notes said? There's a monster, no, a _demon_ lurking among us...Caboose must've found him, and it fucked him up!”

“Seriously? That's just stupid. And that doesn't really explain the gross shit coming out of his mouth.” Tucker walked over, peering into Caboose's mouth. Caboose fought the urge to frown, instead shooting a glance to Church. Church was looking away from everyone.

“This doesn't seem physically possible,” Simon remarked, letting out frustrated sigh. “He's useless to us like this. That thing probably fucked with his head, too.” He closed Caboose's mouth before turning and walking back to his usual spot amongst the others in the group. 

Tucker stayed in front of Caboose, eyeing him carefully. “You must've seen whoever it was though. Do you remember who it was?”

Caboose's shook his head without even thinking about it. Tucker groaned and mumbled something about him being useless before walking away. The previous night, the medic had died, and Caboose's voice had been stolen. The group conversation was much more melancholy and serious than the previous day. Church partook, save for when the discussion shifted to the demon among them.

At one point, the guys from the other side of the village were distracted bickering with each other, and Church took that moment to grab Caboose's hand and whisper into his ear. “You could have just asked me, you know.”

Tears prickled at the corner of his eyes, and Caboose could only smile apologetically. Church's brows furrowed in a look of frustration and dismay, before softening and looking somewhat apologetic himself. He held his hand for the rest of the meeting. Whether it was only for the sake of Caboose's comfort, or because Church just wanted to hold hands, Caboose wasn't really sure. It didn't matter.

They died off one by one over the course of the next few days. Occasionally they would lynch people they speculated to be the killers, and sometimes, they were even right. But when it was down to the last four of them, Church was forced to act.

He killed the other two first. Tucker insisted he knew it was Church all along, even as his eyes bled and the last breath left his lungs. Grif was surprisingly complacent when Church was strangling him, but then again, he'd been quiet ever since they'd found the mangled corpse of his sister.

When they were both dealt with, Church wiped his hands, walking over to Caboose who stared at him with wide eyes. Church tried to smile, but Caboose could see the sadness in his gaze. He had figured it was going to end this way, but he was glad to have made it this far with Church.

“You know what I have to do, right?” Caboose nodded. “I'm really sorry about all of this, Caboose. I wish it didn't have to be this way.” Caboose did too.

Church stepped forward and hugged him close, pressing his face into Caboose's neck. Caboose opened his mouth, trying to apologize, to thank him, to say goodbye, anything, but the eternal stream of black sludge muted him again, and he sobbed in frustration.

Church put his hand on the back of Caboose's neck. “I'll try to make this quick, alright?” The other man weakly nodded.

“Goodbye, buddy. I'll remember you.”


End file.
